Chapter 54

Victoria’s eyes shifted slightly.

“If Elena says she has a car, I doubt she’s joking.”

Adrian was still young. He had made money of his own, but he wasn’t the type to throw it around the way some older, wealthier men did. Buying a girlfriend an expensive car on a whim wasn’t something he would normally do.

But if Elena really had found herself a wealthy older man, then a car wouldn’t be much of a surprise.

A hint of contempt crossed Victoria’s face.

In her eyes, Elena had little else to rely on. Without money, family influence, or any real standing of her own, what else could she do but attach herself to someone who had those things?

Adrian had no idea what Victoria was thinking. He simply assumed she was naive enough to believe Elena.

“Forget about her. Let’s—”

A deep engine roar rolled through the underground garage.

Adrian stopped.

The sound was low and heavy, unmistakably the growl of a twin-turbocharged V8.

He knew enough about cars to recognize something serious when he heard it, and his attention immediately shifted toward the far end of the garage.

A pair of sharp LED lights appeared around the corner.

Then a black Audi RS7 came into view.

It swept out of the passageway with a low, aggressive stance, its huge honeycomb grille and dark forged wheels making it look almost predatory under the garage lights.

A white SUV ahead was reversing into a parking space, temporarily blocking the lane.

The RS7 stopped to wait.

Its engine settled into a quiet idle, though the low rumble still carried through the enclosed garage.

Adrian stared at it.

The car had stopped less than fifteen yards from his Porsche, and the driver’s side was directly beneath the lights. The windows weren’t heavily tinted, so he could clearly see who was behind the wheel.

Elena.

One hand rested on the steering wheel. Her other elbow was propped casually near the window as she looked down at her phone, apparently waiting for the SUV to finish parking.

For three seconds, Adrian didn’t move.

Then he shut his car door and strode toward her.

“Elena!”

She looked up at the sound of his voice.

Adrian stopped beside the driver’s window, staring down at her in disbelief.

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“This car…” His jaw tightened. “Where did you get it?”

Elena lowered her phone without answering.

His eyes moved over the interior. The leather still had that untouched new-car sheen. There was no visible wear on the seats, and even the center console looked almost pristine.

This wasn’t some old car she had borrowed from a friend.

It was practically new.

And a fully loaded RS7 like this could easily run deep into six figures.

More expensive than his Porsche.

“Where did it come from?”

Elena looked at him and almost wanted to laugh.

This was exactly how Adrian had always seen her: a girl from an ordinary family with nothing particularly impressive about her except her face and her dancing. Someone who was supposed to look up to him.

That was why she had always been expected to worry about him, watch him, and make sure no other woman got too close.

Meanwhile, he could ignore her when he wanted, treat her coldly, and blur the line with other girls.

And because he didn’t like it, she wasn’t supposed to act in productions or build a following for herself on social media.

“Adrian,” Elena said flatly, “move. The car in front of me is gone. You’re blocking the lane.”

Adrian glanced behind him.

There was no car coming yet.

He turned back immediately. “I asked you a question.”

“Where I got my car is none of your business.” Elena picked up her phone. “And if you don’t move, I’m recording this. Keep blocking my car and I’ll call the police.”

Adrian stared at her.

There was no jealousy in her eyes.

No hurt.

She just looked annoyed.

For the first time, something about that expression unsettled him.

Elena looked away.

She pressed lightly on the accelerator, and the RS7 moved past him with a low growl before heading toward the garage exit.

The rush of air stirred the hem of his coat.

Adrian remained where he was, watching the taillights disappear around the upward ramp.

The engine note lingered for a few seconds before fading with the car.

“Adrian?”

Victoria had walked up behind him.

“What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer.

Under the cold white lights of the garage, his face looked pale and rigid. His jaw was clenched hard enough for a vein near his temple to pulse.

“That car…”

“Adrian.”

Victoria hesitated.

“There’s something I’m not sure I should tell you.”

She lightly bit her lip, looking reluctant.

“Charlotte sent me a photo a few days ago. Someone saw a limited-production Lagonda dropping Elena off at school.”

Adrian finally turned toward her.

Victoria continued carefully.

“That car is worth around a million dollars. And the people around here who own one are mostly older businessmen.”

She lowered her eyes for a moment.

“I wasn’t completely sure before. But after seeing this…”

Her gaze moved toward the garage exit.

“…Audi, I’m starting to think it might actually be true.”

She left the rest unsaid, but Adrian understood exactly what she was implying.

Elena had found herself a wealthy older man.

A very wealthy older man.

He said nothing.

For someone at that level, a car worth a few hundred thousand dollars might not mean much.

But casually letting Elena drive one?

That was different.

A strange pressure tightened in Adrian’s chest.

He had always believed Elena couldn’t let him go.

From the day they started dating, he had been certain of it.

She wasn’t just infatuated with him. She depended on him.

He had dismissed her coldness, her distance, even the breakup itself as another tantrum. She had gotten angry with him before, and eventually she had always come back.

He assumed this time would be no different.

Except she hadn’t come back.

And now, apparently, there was someone else.

Someone who could give Elena things Adrian never had.

Still, that didn’t necessarily mean the car belonged to her.

Maybe the man was only letting her drive it.

And even if he was willing to spend money on her, so what?

With Elena’s background, did she really think someone from that kind of family would marry her?

At most, she was a mistress.

“Adrian?”

Victoria watched his expression darken.

She reached out and lightly touched the sleeve of his coat.

“Are you okay? Don’t let it bother you. Maybe this sounds harsh, but she isn’t worth—”

“Victoria.”

Adrian suddenly turned to her.

“That photo Charlotte sent you. Could you see the license plate?”

Victoria paused.

“Yes, but not all of it.”

Adrian’s mouth tightened into a faint smile.

If the car was rare enough, even a partial plate might be enough to identify it.